


Nothing dandy about him

by Crypty_Waffles_A_Lot



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Allison is a Good Friend, Allison needs a break, But no seriously, M/M, Only Major Character Death because...their ghosts., Past Character Death, The Captain is a gay disaster, Thomas is worse, Thomas's body was thrown in the lake ok? Ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypty_Waffles_A_Lot/pseuds/Crypty_Waffles_A_Lot
Summary: (There is a surprising lack of fics in this fandom. I'm not offering to fix that, I'm just here to give some cursed stuff out)Thomas is bad at describing feelings.The Captain can't do feelings all together.Allison just wants sleep dammit.Mike is just along for the ride.Alternatively named -Ghosts aren't supposed to feel things!(on slight break until author gets her shit together and gets motivated again)
Relationships: The Captain/Thomas Thorne
Comments: 25
Kudos: 112





	1. Prolouge -

**Author's Note:**

> I was this close to naming this  
> 'The beginning of Thomas' emotional break' but decided to be simple.  
> Anyway.  
> Thomas has a bi panic realising he may have feelings for the Captain. The Captain is oblivious.

Thomas knew he was sulking. 

When was he not? If the world insisted on giving him the hardest time possible, then why shouldn't he voice his anguish? His darling Allison didn't want him, the other blasted inhabitants of this house didn't want him, _nobody_ wanted him! He is nothing but a failed poet, a failed man. 

Thomas collapsed onto the nearest object, which happened to be a rather pompous loveseat next to a window. But it wouldn't have mattered. He can't feel it, not properly anyhow. Oh, the joys of not having a pulse _._ Absentmindly touching the bullet wound in his stomach, Thomas couldn't help but wish he had done things differently. Maybe if he had been more happy in his life, he wouldn't be stuck with such frightful company in his afterlife.

...perhaps that was a _little_ harsh. After all, it was Kitty and Mary who convinced his sorry carcass (not literally) out of that damned lake. (In all honesty, all they did was introduce themselves and he was straight out). He should be more grateful for the company, he supposed, leaning back until he was lying on his back. Some company, though. It's not like they appreciated him, or his work. Giving a _painfully_ wistful sigh, his mind wandered back to the newest inhabitants of the house.

 _Oh Allison_. If only circumstances were different, perhaps he could've at least had a chance with the woman. Instead she is perfectly in love with that dull-headed Mike. But he couldn't blame Mike for that, Thomas silently admitted. He wasn't particularly bad, if he was being honest. Mike was an interesting character, but he did seem to love Allison a lot. The poet cringed, remembering the terrified look on the man's face when he found Allison on the house grounds after her fall. The man looked as if his entire world had shattered. How poetic in all the worst ways. 

And at least Mike couldn't see him. He couldn't give him that look of disgruntled dislike that the Captain seemed to wear so well. And always around _him_ \- but of course the uptight devil would think that of the love-starved poet. A chuckle escaped Thomas despite himself. The Captain would sure know a lot about being love-starved. Longing looks at people far out of reach? A characteristic they shared it seems. Thomas couldn't help scoffing bitterly at the thought. Who did the man think he was fooling? Maybe some of the ghosts feigned ignorance at his advances for a certain sex, but then again, that _side eye Julian gives him -_  


Thomas sighed. Why was he plaguing himself with these thoughts? What the Captain chooses to tell or not tell his peers were none of his concern. Right? Then why did he feel so irked at the thought of the Captain keeping secrets from him? Thomas threw his arm over his face, sighing.

Damn that foolish soldier, damn his ridiculously perfect suit, damn his _ridiculously_ captivating azure eyes-

Thomas shot up into a sitting position with a strangled yelp. _Where in the devil did that come from?!_ Who did he think he was?! Having thoughts like that about the Captain? The stuck - up walrus, obsessed with order? The ghost who constantly insulted his work, constantly undermined him? The immaculate, perfect Captain? Who, also, was another man?

Since when did Thomas like men? He _didn't_ \- or not really...? He's loved plenty the woman, and has _admired_ a few men, maybe, but...

Thomas's eyes widened, and he stood up, beginning to pace. But...he was sure he fancied women! Allison is a prime example! Is he even _allowed_ to like both? It was, when he was alive, considered strange for two men to be together - more so for two women - but Thomas had never heard of someone who could love...both? The poet nearly screamed, tangling his hands through his hair, tugging hard.

Oh this is just perfect! Pines over a woman who can't love him, so the heart moves on to someone even further from reach. The Captain, of all people!

_What was he going to do?!_

...

Well, he could always lament a little. Or he _would've_ , if the Captain hadn't suddenly phased through the closed door. 

He would never admit it later that day, but he shrieked loudly in shock when the Captain cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

"Thorne! What on earth...its just me, man!" The Captain snapped at the jumpy poet.

He never got an answer. Thomas tried to talk, but only a squeak came out. So he dashed out of the room before he could embarrass himself further, deciding that was the better choice. And the Captain couldn't bring himself to be surprised. The Regency fool seemed to be in one of his lamenting mood, he mused, and went along with his daily duty, albeit in a perplexed mood. 

Thomas, was not, in fact, in a lamenting mood.   


He was in a more ' _drown your sorrows' in the lake_ mood.


	2. Stable Kitchen Counters make for Stable Chats.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Allison talk. Thomas discovers the term bisexual and Allison is tired, but supportive. Mike is pretty much sleeping through all of this btw. Also Kitty appears very briefly at the end, but I promise she'll be super prominent next chapter.

Allison knew she didn't have a normal life. How normal can you get when your daily interactions involve _multiple_ ghosts from _multiple_ different eras? However, she was beginning to fall into a routine, and she was alright with that. Routines tended to make things easier - Well, as easy as things could be, considering the conditions. She would wake up (normally thanks to Kitty) and go to work with Mike, earn enough to continue the house renovations, come home, humor Thomas' advances, bear through Fanny's complaints about her and sometimes sit through a war-time tv show with the Captain. Or something similar. 

But lately she's begun to notice something is... _off_ with Thomas. He has a heaviness to him Allison hadn't noticed before. His advances are becoming less and less frequent and he's been spending an awful lot of time sulking in his sighing spot. The others were noticing too, but it seemed nobody was worrying too much about Thomas, no matter how quiet the melodramatic poet had gotten.

She tried asking Pat at first. He seemed to know his fellow ghosts relatively well, - always trying to be friendly - and perhaps he knew why Thomas was acting strange. After a few half-assed attempts at questioning Pat - _"What, is it his death day or something? I swear he looks like he wants to stay in the lake 24/7 recently..."_ \- She couldn't seem to find a valid reason. Allison tried to reason with herself that she shouldn't even be working herself up over this. Maybe it was the fact that this newfound mystery was keeping her mind off their money problems and the fact that she was surprised the roof hasn't caved in yet.

At a slight loss of what to do, Allison thought it would be best to at least try and talk to the poet. Maybe it was something _she_ said?

It was an early Friday morning when Allison decided that something happened to Thomas. There was no way he wasn't upset. Well, more upset than usual. She had noticed the poets strange behaviour as she went to go make a cup of coffee before work, like she always did. She hadn't woken up Mike yet, planning to do so with a nice mug of coffee. Thomas was already in the kitchen, sitting on one of the counter tops, crossed legged. He was resting his chin on his hand, leaning over in a way that seemed downright uncomfortable, while staring into space. He jumped off quickly when she came in, though, smoothing down his tunic and breeches.

"A-Allison! What a ... _pleasant_ surprise!" He breathed, giving a strained grin in her direction. She gave him a confused look as she turned on the kettle.

"Are you all right Thomas?" She asked, partly amused as she watched Thomas fiddle with the cuff of his sleeves. He was refusing to meet her eyes, a very unnatural habit for him. He brightened at the question though.

"Your concern is much appreciated, my lady," he piped up, smiling, even as Allison rolled her eyes at 'my lady', but then spoke a lot more softly, "I simply have a lot on my mind..." he trailed off.

"Oh...well if there's anything I could do to help, fire away." Allison offered (although nearly wincing at her choice of words, eyeing Thomas' bullet wound).

"I appreciate the offer dearly, my lady. But I fear there's not much anyone could do for me." He suddenly sounded downright miserable, and he still wasn't meeting Allison's eyes. Just as she was about to question him on this, the Captain entered, coughing to announce his presence. 

"Allison. Thorne." He stated, not exactly kindly, but not harshly either. He may as well have though, considering the look Thomas was giving him. Allison was very puzzled, and she looked between the two, expecting the poet to exclaim something sarcastic. Since Allison had lived with her 'housemates', Thomas always seemed to have something witty to say to the Captain, the casual back and forth of remarks a normal occurrence when they were in close proximity. 

The Captain also seemed to be waiting for a response from the poet, where as Thomas still looked wide eyed, his mouth very slightly open, as if he (for once) was at a loss for words. Allison decided to cut in, the silence becoming a little awkward. 

"Good morning Captain. Sleep well?" She murmured, reaching for a mug, before she registered who she was talking to.

"If ghosts can even actually sleep. Can you?" She asks, but the Captain wasn't listening. He was looking at the spot Thomas had been seconds before, one of his eyebrows raised. The regency dandy had fled the room when Allison turned away, choosing to simply dart through a wall. 

"Um..." Allison wasn't sure how to respond. 

"I suppose he's in a mood?" The Captain offered, though Allison suspected she heard more than just confusion in his tone. 

"Yeah...something like that..." she decided, and continued pouring the coffee. The Captain left rather awkwardly, choosing to not pry the matter further. Allison was left to wonder what Thomas was so spooked by. Maybe the Captain was more walrus like than she thought? No, that didn't make sense. From what she'd seen, Thomas and the Captain seemed to have a casual back and forth relationship, and both of them seemed to enjoy witty comebacks and insults _borderlining_ on harsh. So...what had changed? Had one of them gone too far? Or was Thomas just being a wimp? Maybe something had been said?

Allison was so caught in her thoughts, she didn't notice Robin quietly sinking into the fridge. She would soon learn why not to wear light colourd jumpers while drinking coffee.

\---------

"Thomas? Why weren't you at the ghost meeting? Pat was looking for you." Allison strode towards the poet, who was currently back in the kitchen. It surprised Allison he wasn't in his normal 'sighing spot'. She hoped this wasn't his new one. He hopped off the counter when he saw her, and Allison was hit with a sense of de ju vous. 

"A-ah there was no particular reason, my dear." He muttered, but he sounded strained again. Allison decided enough was enough. She could barely deal with the poet on a good day, let alone when he was being this miserable. 

"Thomas look. Just...Sit down." She demanded more than asked, pulling out a chair, and sitting on one herself. Thomas seemed shocked enough by her tone to obey. 

"You haven't been yourself lately. It's weird, but we're worried for you." Allison tried, hoping the poet would open up a little. 

" 'We'?" Thomas piped up, "have there been those asking after my well being?" 

Allison registered his hopeful voice, now almost certain one of the ghosts had said something to him.

"Well, Pat was on about you this morning, but The Captain mentioned you were -" she cut herself off at Thomas' face.

He was grinning, eyes lighting up. Oh. So _that_ was it. 

"Why do you want to know?" She asked, seeing if Thomas would confirm her suspicions. 

"No reason! None! I was simply...uhm.." was the stuttered reply, as the poet suddenly seemed to find the tiled floor awfully interesting. 

Deciding against her better judgement, Allison couldn't hold her tounge any longer. The Regency dandy was laughably bad at hiding things, and seemed to be in a lamenting mood. Perhaps Allison could get him talking. 

"Oh that's a shame," Allison murmured, standing up as if about to leave, "The Captain seemed pretty worried about you. But nevermind. I can tell him you're--"

The reaction was immediate. 

" _OH_ \- NO- I-UH-" Thomas lept to his feet, looking to Allison more like a startled fawn than anything else, and blocked her path to the door.

"Ahah-ha, there's no need for anything like that, haha..." His clearly forced laugh was enough to make anyone snap. Allison was not an exception. 

"Thomas are you _sure_ there's nothing you want to tell me? Nothing that would, oh I don't know," Allison waved her hand, gesturing to the air, "have something to do with why you're acting so...different?"

  
"I was _not_ acting different-" Thomas attempted to reply before Allison cut him off.

"Thomas I have watched you threaten to jump out of the library window because Julian called you over dramatic. I think there's something wrong if you've been ignoring every opportunity to lament for weeks now," Allison raised her brow, before questioning, "Is it your death day soon or something?"

Thomas winced, but shook his head. His hands wandered near his abdomen and he responded.   
"No, Allison it's nothing like that. I simply...how do I put this - " he waves his hands in the air, slamming them down to his sides with clenched fists " - When you are so certain of something for your entire life, when _that_ is differed...It's strange. And laughably poetic." 

Allison goes to sit back down at the table and Thomas leans on the side of the counter. He looks like he's either about to burst into laughter or tears. Before Allison can say anything, he chuckles before looking at her and grinning.

"Have you ever been in love Allison? I do believe I have... or...I was absolutely certain I was once, but...well," he gestures to the bullet wound in his stomach, and Allison can't conceal her shock.

" _She_ _shot_ _you?!_ " 

"What? _No!_ She wasn't even aware-- no he snuck up on me --" Thomas shook his head, despite Allison's interest, "Unimportant, my dear. As I was saying, love is _strange_. Unprecedented! Unpredictable! Un... _uh_...Uncomfortable!" He grins again, looking far too proud of himself for that awful wording. 

"I would write about it, if it were not so painful. The feeling is more akin to a dagger through my heart than one of joy...So you can imagine my surprise when my heart began bleeding once more," Thomas winced, preparing himself for Allison's questions - to which he got none. 

Allison was staring at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowed, trying to piece together what the bloody poet meant. 

"How about again, without the fancy words?" She tries, and Thomas sighs, tilting his head back. At least he was feeling more like himself. Allison was beginning to wonder how she could've missed the dramatic flare.

"I believe I am...experiencing some heartache, Allison-" he waves his arm up, is if trying to conjure an explanation, " - that I do not quite understand."

"Okay...what don't you understand?" Allison pressed slowly, hoping that he didn't mean her. 

Thomas suddenly turned to her, looking worried, but strangely determined.

"Allison. I believe I have gained an attraction to the ... _same_ sex."

Allison blinked. She wasn't sure what she was expecting but...well it wasn't this. She turned on the chair to face him fully.

"Oh. How'd you find out?"

"W-what? N-no shock? No horror?"

"Thomas, if you like men that's not really a 'big deal' anymore. Well, obviously it's a big deal to _you_ , I dont mean to be insensitive; sorry. I meant it isn't like, _illegal_ , or anything." Allison is smiling softly, trying to gauge Thomas's reaction.

He looked down at the ground for a moment. 

"But I've been attracted to women as well and...I...what if I feel attraction towards both sexes?" He looks up at Allison when she snaps her head up to look at him, and he feels suddenly cold, "It does not make a lick if sence, does it? Am I broken?"

"What? _No_ , Thomas you're not broken, for gods sake." Allison gets up to stand next to him. "I think you might be bi, actually."

"...what?"

"Bisexual. It's the term for people who feel attracted to men and women. It's ok to be that way, Thomas. Doesn't mean you're broken."

"Bisexual...but what's 'bi', then?"

"Just a shortened term for bisexual."

The poet looks and the ground for a second, brows tightly knitted, seeming processing the term. Then a small smile appears on his face. Allison can't help but feel heart warmed by the look. Finding out your sexuality, huh. Allison remembers how she felt, that warmth of feeling understood, finding a label that you feel comfortable with...

Hang on. Is this a recent feeling, or?

"Hey Thomas, if you don't mind me asking, how'd you find out you like men as well?"

Thomas' head shot back up. He looked very sheepish, eyes darting around, before he muttered something Allison couldn't catch. She gives him a questioning look, before he sighs.

"You must promise not to tell a soul!" He hisses, and Allison smiles and agrees. Thomas clears his throat, looking awkward.

"A certain man of stern repute...you   
could say a man of high social standing...a...captain if you will has --"

Allison can't help the gasp as her eyebrows nearly shoot into her hair. She had thought Thomas was mad at the Captain for some reason but _this_...actually this did make sense. Still, it was a little surprising. 

"The _Captain_?!" She exclaimes, damn near shouting it. 

Before Thomas can screech at her to keep it down, Kitty saunters into the room.

"Ooh, what about the Captain? Oh! Are we gossiping? I do love gossiping!" She giggles.

Allison and Thomas have no idea what to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's been a while. This took....FOREVER holy shit I'm so sorry! I swear the next chapter will be out much quicker I promise. Anywho I hope you like this long boi of a chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you like this please leave a comment, they make my day! Anyway imma go sleep before I finish writing the next chaper, brb.


End file.
